Chapter 7
“I’m sorry. You’re right. You are a saint who knows what she’s talking about, and I am an i***t,” Andreas recited faithfully.
Lauren laughed. “That’s more like it.”
Andreas felt better than he had since before he’d gotten pregnant. Lauren’s sister ran a health spa out near Halifax, and Lauren had booked them a private session at mates’ rates. A sauna without anyone but his best friend to see the mess that Beatriz had made of him, and a deep tissue massage from Greg, the only masseuse in the world Andreas would ever trust anywhere near his mismatched body. If any could combat a dizzy day, that was it. He didn’t feel a million dollars, as they stepped out into the car park, but he could probably stretch to a couple of thousand.
“Lunch? Erik can treat us at the pub.”
Originally
